


No one must ever know what I have done

by xiamer



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Enjolras and Cosette Fauchelevent are Twins, Gen, M/M, R you proud of me, Vicky should be proud of me for that pun, could be there could also not be, e/R is like it is in most of my fics, ive been waiting to use that tag for the last 37 years, not sure what to tag but make sure you read the notes, oh wait okay so, this is the most Grantaire ive included in a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25142245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiamer/pseuds/xiamer
Summary: Marius turned the dopey grin on Enjolras at that moment“Oh Enjolras, I heard a name! She had a name, and though I believe that perhaps I dreamt it, I do believe that my dream conjured the name ‘Cosette’.”Enjolras stiffened immediately. He gripped the back of a chair as though he meant to strangle it.“Cosette you say,” he grit out through clenched teeth, “you say Cosette. Do you know anything else about this Cosette?”Title is from “No one must ever know” from the Jekyll and Hyde musical
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras & Les Amis de l'ABC, Enjolras & Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	No one must ever know what I have done

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Butter_Churner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Butter_Churner/gifts), [Get_below_my_line_of_vision](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/gifts).



> okay sorry for not uploading anything ?? i have like a billion different WIPs going on rn and this isn’t even one that ive been working on while lmao, i started this last night and passed out at 4:30 in the morning before i could finish 
> 
> but yeah okay, this is for A_Butter_Churner and Get_below_my_line_of_vision because both of you gifted me a fic and i wanted to repay you so i really hope you guys like this :))
> 
> so the reason i said to read the notes !!
> 
> when Marius meets les amis in the book, enj is 22 and R is ~25, and when lamarque dies, enj is 26 and R is ~29 but in this fic, im basing it moreso off of the movie, so it seems more like they’ve started planning in 1832 instead of in 1828-  
> “but el,” you ask, “why would you do that?”  
> good question my lovely reader ! in this fic, enj is 16 going on 17 (he knows that he’s naïve; fellows he may meet-) so if he started planning in 1828 he would’ve been like 13, and noah fence but 13 year olds don’t even know what a government is so i don’t think he’d be able to overthrow it 
> 
> also okay so the age of consent in France is like 15 or something, but i still felt kinda gross with the e/R pairing knowing that enj is like 17 and R’s 29 so for this ive bonked his age down to 24 
> 
> i might be uploading a little less frequently cause ive got my first day of work on Thursday, and im working in one of the busiest, yet severely understaffed, restaurants in my town but ill still write as often as possible !!
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy :)))

June the first, 1832, saw Marius Pontmercy stumbling into the Café Musain donning a love struck expression. Enjolras had never much approved of his antics, but the others liked him well enough, and he didn’t really have the heart to kick him out. A Bonapartist he may be, but a relatively harmless one at that. His politics may be wrong, but he was a loyal to the Revolution, so that’s all that really mattered.  
  


When the others in the back began to question Marius over his previous whereabouts and his current contenance, Enjolras mostly tuned them out in favour of discussing, with Combeferre, General Lamarque's declining health. The Revolution was more important than whatever silly infatuation Marius was discussing.  
  


Love in the physical sense was not something that Enjolras had any experience with. He was unaware of how it felt to lust after woman, nor how it felt to desire one. He understood love for a country well enough; he knew brotherly love as well; perhaps knew romantic love, though that was where the line grew faint.  
  


And though he knew these loves, he never gave himself time to dwell on them. Though he knew that he felt patriotic love, platonic love, and what may be romantic love, Enjolras knew that in the end, only patriotism would be important. Thus, he never let himself give into his own desires for intimacy. He was still young, however, so when the barricades succeeded, and he could take a moment to breathe, Enjolras may find himself confronting his romantic interest.  
  


And young he definitely was.  


It was often joked that he looked as though he were a teenager, that he was eternally youthful. These were indeed jokes, but they did hit uncomfortably close to home. No one but Combeferre had any idea what his actual age was, and even Combeferre wasn’t given the full truth.  
  


Enjolras feared he wouldn’t be taken seriously if he divulged any of his personal details, so they were kept on a strict lockdown. He gave out information yes, but was it true? Hardly.  
  


The people of Paris knew Julien Enjolras to be 26 and the only son of wealthy parents from the South. Combeferre knew him to be Julien Enjolras, 20 yet still the son of wealthy parents from the South.  
  


Enjolras knew himself to be not yet 17. He was half of a set of twins illegitimately born to a factory-worker-turned-prostitute, and each adopted by a different father. Enjolras was the surname of his adoptive family, so he went from simply Julien, to Julien Enjolras. Whatever happened to his sister, he had no idea. She had been taken in by someone else, and he hadn’t heard anything from her in that time.  
  


He hadn’t thought of her in years. He had no reason to; he had a Revolution to plan, and no thoughts to spare for an estranged sister.  
  


He hadn’t thought of her until this very moment.  


Finally not being able to ignore Marius anymore, Enjolras turned from Combeferre to fully listen to the group’s conversation.  
  


Marius was gushing over a woman that he had met on the street earlier that day, and was being teased about it by almost every other occupant of the room, Grantaire especially.  
  


“She may just be a ghost, but she was the most wonderful ghost I’ve ever imagined were that to be the case,” Marius was dreamily staring up at Grantaire, who was working to contain laughter.  
  


“Marius, if you aren’t truly sure that she’s even real, then why be you so infatuated?”

Enjolras was aware that he was scowling as he said it, but he never understood the merit of “love at first sight”.  
  


Marius turned the dopey grin on Enjolras at that moment.  
  


“Oh Enjolras, I heard a name! She had a name, and though I believe that perhaps I dreamt it, I do believe that my dream conjured the name ‘Cosette’.”  


Enjolras stiffened immediately. He gripped the back of a chair as though he meant to strangle it.   
  


“Cosette you say,” he grit out through clenched teeth, “you say Cosette. Do you know anything else about this Cosette?”   
  


Marius brought a hand up to cup his chin in a thoughtful manner.   
  


“There was a man with her, perhaps her father. The Thénardiers, you know them,” Marius paused to glance at Enjolras, who gave a stiff nod in response, “they said something about him having stolen her, it was a whole debacle, with Inspector Javert and all.”   
  


Courfeyrac swung an arm around Marius’ shoulder.   
  


“Sounds like it! You’ve had quite the day, monsieur.”   
  


Enjolras was still holding the chair back in a death grip. He knew exactly who it was that Marius was speaking of, and though he cared not for his love affairs, he did care for finding Cosette, and perhaps the father she lived with as well.   
  


The group had gone back to easy banter with Marius, and when Enjolras next spoke, it surprised himself as much as them.   
  


“Do you have an idea as to where this Cosette may be?”   
  


Grantaire’s eyebrows shot up enough to be covered by dark curls.   
  


“Mighty Apollo cares for the love of the mortals? I would not have it; it is not true.”   
  


“I do not care for his lonely soul, no. One might say that I have… ulterior motives.”   
  


Instead of easing anyone’s mind, this simply caused more unrest. Joly sprang from his seat to put his hand to Enjolras’ forehead.   
  


“Have you a fever? This doesn’t seem like you, Enjolras.”   
  


Enjolras batted Joly’s hand away from his face, with an assurance that he was fine. Marius and Grantaire, however, both seemed troubled still.   
  


“Enjolras! Have you the hopes to take my Cosette?”   
  


The mental image that gives Enjolras is enough to make him gag, valiantly though he tries to restrain it.   
  


Given the looks he receives it is safe to say that he does not succeed.   
  


“My my,” starts Courfeyrac, “do you truly find the idea of engaging in the throes of passion with this Cosette to be that repulsive?”   
  


“I have my reasons.”   
  


It comes out more petulantly than he wishes, but it’s too late to take it back now.   
  


Grantaire is still uncharacteristically quiet, and it is now that he decides to weigh in.   
  


“And,” he sounds uncertain for once in his life, “what may those reasons be?”   
  


Does he tell them? Does he trust his group of brothers to still believe in him?   
  


Enjolras holds up his index finger to signal that he needs a moment, and immediately turns to the nearest doorframe and slams his head against it.   
  


Brain sufficiently damaged, Enjolras takes the poor chair that he had previously abused, and spun it so that he could sit down. He clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees whilst putting his chin on his hands.   
  


“Those reasons, you ask, Grantaire; those reasons are not simply because I find the very idea of loving a woman to be needless; no, they are something else. Those reasons,” he suddenly leapt up from his chair, “are for this specific woman. I seek no pleasure from women, and  _ especially  _ not your Cosette. Now,” he began to pace, “who would like to know why?”   
  


There was a general murmur, and Enjolras was too far into this to back out now, so he barrelled on.   
  


“Citizens, this Cosette sounds lovely. She does. But I have no intentions of creating a romantic relationship with one such as her. I,” he paused, took a deep breath, and forced out the rest of the sentence, “I do not wish to pursue a courtship with a sister.”   
  


He finished, chin held high, breaths unsteady. Enjolras knew there must be some sort of wild glint in his eye, as no one spoke for a few moments. Finally, it was Prouvaire who broke the silence.   
  


“A sister? Enjolras, you cannot exclude sisters of the republic from the list of those you would be intimate with.”   
  


Enjolras whirled around, at a loss for words.   
  


“I- what? No, what?”   
  


He looked around at everyone else in the room, who all seemed to mirror his own confusion. Enjolras groaned and rubbed his hands across his face.   
  


“No. Not a sister of the republic, Prouvaire. I mean an honest-to-god sister of mine. Your Cosette,” Enjolras spun towards Marius, “is my twin, as in sister. Sister, as in we share the same parents.”   
  


“Julien how old are you?”   
  


Who even said that? Enjolras couldn’t even be bothered to turn at this point, and he just collapsed in his previously abandoned chair, and cast his gaze downwards.   
  


“I don’t want to answer that,” he muttered weakly.   
  


A collective groan passed through the room. Enjolras slightly lifted his head to see Marius watching him, incredulous.   
  


“Why would you never mention this?”   
  


Who was that, was it Combeferre?   
  


“Who’d trust a 17 year old bastard with something such as revolution? It simply wasn’t practical to mention it before now. I believe that the fact may actually still stand, so if we could change the subject now that I realise…”   
  


He trailed off and was met with several expressions proving that the subject would, indeed, not be dropped. Courfeyrac had dropped any sort of joking demeanour and now stared at him with wide eyes.   
  


“Seventeen?”   
  


Enjolras swallowed, and choked out an “approximately”.   
  


Combeferre fixed him with a stern gaze.   
  


“You had said 20.”   
  


“I believe that we have proven that I have been dishonest with many.”   
  


“You told me 20. 17 is simply too young, Julien.”   
  


Enjolras sighed.   
  


“Combeferre, mon ami, this is the exact reason. I feel the need to lead, and I feel a pull to change this country, but no one will follow a child. So yes, I fabricate the truth in order to keep support. You, of everyone here, must understand the most what this means to me.”   
  


Combeferre still looked mostly disapproving, but it had softened a little. He went over and tugged Enjolras into a hug. Though his immediate action was freezing, Enjolras soon felt himself melt into embrace.   
  


It was odd; having everyone know was both a relief and a burden to him. He didn’t need to actively hide himself, but he still was unsure if anyone there would still follow a teenager.   
  


Suddenly, Courfeyrac was there as well, wrapping his arms around Enjolras from the right, as Combeferre still clung to the left. Enjolras allowed himself a little smile. These were his best friends. No matter the age, they were still the Triumvirate. They still cared about each other deeply, and nothing would be able to change that. He leaned a little further into the touch. 

The rest of the group seemed content enough to simply watch, but soon Bahorel charged up from the back and enveloped all three men into a hug. Following Bahorel came both Feuilly and Prouvaire, who were more delicate, though just as sincere, when wrapping their arms around everyone. Next, Lesgles came bounding up, nearly knocking over the entire pile, with Joly hobbling in behind him. Marius followed like a puppy and inserted himself in by Courfeyrac’s side. The only one left out was Grantaire, who eyed everyone warily.   
  


Enjolras noticed this, as he seemed to notice everything where Grantaire was concerned, and met the cynic’s eyes with a small questioning glance. They had a brief stare off, but it resolved quickly with Grantaire sighing, placing his bottle on the nearest table and walking up to the tangle surrounding Enjolras; he made his way to the back, where Bahorel and L’Aigle stood; this caused Enjolras to frown and shift slightly so that he was holding his arms out; a sign of his childness, perhaps, but what he wanted was a clear embrace from Grantaire, strange as it may sound.   
  


It seemed to be strange to Grantaire as well, who raised his eyes in surprise at the gesture. Enjolras was about to drop his arms, when Grantaire stepped forward into them, tentatively wrapping his own around Enjolras’ waist. Their eyes met and they shared a private smile.   
  


Everyone stayed there for a moment longer, but eventually broke away. Courfeyrac took one glance at Enjolras and Grantaire, who were the last to pull away, and flashed Enjolras a knowing smile, causing the boy to flush and clear his throat.   
  


“I would like,” he began softly, “to perhaps meet your Cosette. It’s been nearly 15 years since I’ve last seen her, so maybe we could find her together?”   
  


He snuck a hopeful glance to Marius, who was beaming back at him.   
  


“Oh yes! Yes, yes! That would be lovely.”   
  


“It will be after the barricades, however,” Enjolras fixed him with a stern glance, “we must not shirk our responsibilities there.”   
  


Marius nodded in agreement, right as Gavroche came stumbling into the room.   
  


“Listen everyone!”   
  


Courfeyrac spun to face him.   
  


“What is it, Gavroche?”   
  


“General Lamarque is dead.”   
  


Enjolras could feel everyone’s eyes on him. Teenager or not, he realised then that he would still be their leader; the leader who could not afford to mess up this opportunity.   
  


They had to get to work. 

**Author's Note:**

> like it ? love it ? hate it ? im just glad you read it !
> 
> i kinda like this universe, so i might write more ?? 
> 
> also okay, if you guys like my writing, like just in general, im thinking of uploading some original works here, would that be interesting to anyone ? 
> 
> WHOS PROUD OF ME I GAVE R LIKE TWO FULL LINES OF DIALOGUE, THIS IS THE MOST OF HIM IVE EVER INCLUDED IN A SERIOUS FIC 
> 
> i literally love everyone so much, and im so happy you continue to enjoy my fics :))
> 
> (be on the lookout for me finally finishing my hurt-jolras fic, or my sick-jolras fic, or uploading pt 4 to those who do not weep do not see, or updating my og fic or writing my jekyll and hyde au which I WILL DO AND ITLL BE GREAT)
> 
> ((this is titled “prompt ?? au ?? fuck if i know” in my google docs))


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